iAccept
by NagiR
Summary: In which Freddie is late, and Mrs. Benson comes to accept that. Tones of Sam/Freddie.


**AN**: Yoz, Nagi here again. I came up with this idea when I was staying with my dad the other day. So it took me a night, and some of today to write this. Yes, I know I'm a slow writer. So, no need to make fun of the slow person writing this! Otherwise, I'll be sad. DD= But I have a question for all of you: should we call Freddie's mom Mrs. Benson or Ms. Benson? I mean, she isn't married, at least I don't think so. She practically dated Lewburt! But I think Mrs. Benson sounds a little better, but then again... skdlfjaskldj.

Anyway, let's move on.

**Disclaimer**: nope with a z. D=

**Note**: grammar, and spelling errors. Excuse them, if you will. I'm not an English major. :P

_In which Freddie is late, and Mrs. Benson comes to accept that._

i**Accept **

I paced back and forth in my living room, and then looked at the clock I had bought when I had moved into Bushwell Plaza. 3:22pm. Where was Freddie? He should have been home ten minutes ago! I knew I had always told him to call when he was going to be late, but yet, I hadn't received a call. Why hasn't he called?!

At least a dozen bad thoughts ran through my head at once, and I had to sit down on the couch just because of the intensity of them. What if he had been hit by projectile weenies from an exploding hotdog stand? Or, or what if there had been a _sharpened_ pencil spill at school, and the hallways had flooded with _sharpened_ pencils, and he slipped on the _sharpened_ pencils, and, and poked his liver out!!

And then, I was up, and pacing again. So many, many horrible thoughts were racing through my mind. What if some random rabid gerbil scurried up his pants leg, and bit him! Oh, my poor, poor baby. Where were you? Come home to mommy. Let mommy check you for ticks.

Suddenly, a certain thought charged through my brain, and I stopped my pacing.

Oh, my God. What if he was with that _Samantha girl?_ That girl was such a bad influence. And don't think me an oblivious mother. I knew what was going on in my little Fredward's mind. I knew he had developed _feelings_ for that _Samantha_ _girl_, he had said so in the journal he kept in his bookshelf.

And no! I wasn't snooping in his personal things—at first... I was just doing my daily cleaning of his room, and happened to find a book on his bookshelf, one I hadn't seen before, and I had seen everything he put up there (it was mandatory)! There was no title on it, or any indication that it was his diary, so I looked through it. It was just an honest accident! Really! But then I read an entry where he had stated that he hated my cucumber puffs, and it took off from there.

I figured that I was his mother, and I deserved to know what was going on in his life! Right?

Anyway, it was an entry that was a little old, back in September, 2008. He wrote something down about how he had those _feelings_ for that_ Samantha_ _girl_. Why would he like her, that _Samantha girl?_ She always picked on my little Freddie, always pulling pranks on him, and calling him mean names. I just couldn't understand it. Whatever happened to being in love with Carly, huh? She was perfect for him, always making good grades, never telling a lie. Unlike that _Samantha_ _girl_ who always made horrible grades, and never told the truth.

I made my mind up: I wasn't going to accept his little _feelings_ for that _Samantha_ _girl_. He was just a little fourteen year old boy, he didn't know what like was.

I marched through the door of my apartment, and over to the Shay's. I knocked on their door twice, then let myself in, seeing as they never kept their door locked, it seemed. Carly was sitting on the couch while Spencer was nowhere to be seen (as well as that _Samantha_ _girl_). _Such irresponsibility,_ I thought. But I ignored it, and asked Carly: "Have you seen my Freddie? He was supposed to be home at least twenty minutes ago!"

"Uhm, no, actually, I haven't." she informed me whilst standing up. "He didn't walk home with me, and neither did Sam. Freddie said he had a project finish, and Sam said she had detention. But don't worry; I'm sure Freddie's alright."

I breathed a harsh sigh. This girl didn't know what worry was. She didn't know the possibilities of what could happen to my baby!

"YO, CAR-LAY!" It was Spencer who yelled this as came bursting out of his room. "Come check out this mold growing in my shower—" he stopped when his eyes came upon me. "Uhm, hi Ms. Benson."

I looked at him with raised eyebrows. "You have mold growing in your shower?" I deadpanned.

"No, no! You heard it all wrong!" he told me, "You see, I said: "Come check out this—"

A quite audible thump was heard from the door of the Shay's apartment, and I, being me, immediately went to check it out. I yanked opened the door to reveal the back of Freddie! Oh thank goodness he was safe!

But then, he turned around, and I saw the _Samantha_ _girl's_ _lips_ glued to his. They... they were..!!

"Oh, my God!!" My sight went white then, a second later, black.

-!!!-

I sat on the couch in my apartment, and stared at the clock on the wall I had bought when I moved into Bushwell Plaza. 3:22pm. He was late again. I hadn't received a call from him, but I knew where he was. He was with that _Saman_—no. Let me rephrase that, he was with _Samantha_, the girl he _liked_, and who also returned his feelings of _like_.

Freddie, and I, we had... _sorted_ things out last week after I had regained consciousness. He sat me down, and told me he and... and Samantha were "going out", as the youth said nowadays. He told me that he would probably be twenty minutes late after school for a long time.

At first, I had refused to accept that, but then I saw the look on his face. He looked... happy, like his father (God, bless his soul) looked when we were together.

So... I wouldn't say I had an _understanding_ of why he liked... Samantha so much, but I accepted it.

**AN**: So, yeah. Review fore they are the cheese to an author's nachos. Please, and thank you. :]


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